


The Masseuse

by Chiroptach



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, Massage, Pre-Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, why is there all this plot in my porn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiroptach/pseuds/Chiroptach
Summary: Victor's jealous nature gets the better of him time and time again.I found Victor's constant touching of Roman/ comforting him was rather endearing. My take on them getting together and an origin for that detail. Featuring comics!Victor's interesting views of other people.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 10
Kudos: 169





	The Masseuse

Victor had a lot of jobs, technically. He wasn’t certain what it said on the payroll about him, but he knew his place, firmly seated by Roman’s side. Bodyguard described him well enough, or at least it did then. He was to follow Roman along and watch him, keep him safe. Or at least that was what he was told. He figured it was actually because he was the only one who never minded listening to Roman complain, the only one who could calm him down. This was supposed to be relaxing though, Roman was going to a masseuse. 

He got in the back seat, next to Roman. Roman was talking to the driver, and Victor decided not to pay much attention. Roman usually tapped his shoulder or said his name loudly if he wanted Victor to listen, which of course, he would. Victor couldn’t recall a person who he was so genuinely invested in before. He could listen to Roman talk about anything and nothing, for hours. Roman, like many business types, equated eye-contact and attention. Victor didn’t much care about eye contact, but when he looked into Roman’s eyes when he ranted about his latest scheme or his big plans Victor saw something in them he hadn’t seen in the drones that mulled on around them. A spark. Light. Life. Despite their constant insistence that they weren’t, those he had freed before were already so obviously dead. It had been years, maybe decades, maybe his whole life since he had seen anyone else who was  _ alive.  _ And yet Roman clearly was. That was what made him irreplaceable, so  _ important _ . Somehow, in this world of the dead, Victor had found the one other person who was alive. He would never let him go. Never let anything happen to him. He had to be there for him, to protect him. 

“Victor? Were you listening to anything I was saying?” Roman asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Victor said. 

“Then why are you coming with me to this appointment?” Roman had been going on about it to the driver, and Victor hadn’t been listening. Fortunately, Roman had already told that story a few times over now. 

“Falcone has been tryin’ his luck again, you need me there to protect you, of course. I would never ignore you, boss.” Roman puffed up his chest, like he was proud to just have Victor listen to him. Of course Victor would listen. He would give him whatever he needed. Always. 

“Good. Let’s go. Be back here in an hour,” he told the driver. “Don’t be late. This is important.” At first Victor thought that attending a spa-esque appointment with Roman would be boring. Of course he would do it regardless, but it wasn’t going to be entertaining. Roman didn’t much like killing resort staff and Victor assumed the masseuse would be much the same. Then he looked into what exactly a masseuse does. Sometimes, Victor could find a particular attraction in flesh, even if the flesh in question was just attached to another drone. When he had first met Roman, he thought he was simply a rather attractive drone. Nothing special enough to avoid an inevitable death by his hands, or whichever mob boss got him first. He was an ambitious drone to be sure. But quickly, Victor realized it. He never thought of himself as lucky, but the only other person who was alive being an attractive person at that had to be a sign. Victor still remembered the place he had picked out for Roman. 

He had been tied up in thought, not quite paying attention as he was drug along. He just stood by Roman’s side and stared blankly, trying his best to frighten the attendant. Roman was entertaining her for some reason, talking rather genuinely. Victor hardened his expression as she locked eyes with him for a moment. Why Roman wasted his time with these drones was beyond him. Maybe he was lonely. He definitely had to have been, Victor had been lonely before he finally found Roman. He guessed trying to fit in among them had provided him something like companionship before. Victor just couldn’t figure out why he thought he still needed to now. 

“Victor? He’s just my bodyguard-”  _ Just? _ “Times have been tough all over. Don’t worry, he’s harmless.” Victor smirked a little.  _ Only for you.  _ “Victor, stay here for just a second.” Then Roman followed the drone in to a side room. Victor stood next to the door, listening intently. Why did Roman want him to stay outside? What was wrong with Victor following him in? Did Roman genuinely want to spend time with that  _ thing?  _ When thinking about the massage he had thought about intently watching Roman, particularly without a shirt, being rhythmically rubbed by disembodied hands while Victor lived vicariously through said hands. It was unrealistic, but he was fairly sure he could ignore the drone who would be attached to the hands just enough to be content. But now he was shut out, stuck outside the room, while that random bitch put her hands all over Roman. Of course, Roman didn’t exactly  _ know  _ how Victor felt about him. Well, Roman wasn’t blind to it by any means, but there was no confirmation from Victor and no communication about it on either end. He had to know at least a little- but Victor was also never particularly emotional. Maybe Roman didn’t see it. He heard the softest noise- definitely Roman. Sort of a moan? Why did  _ she  _ get to do things like that to Roman when Victor couldn’t hold his hand- hell even call him by his _ first name _ in public. She wasn’t even living, or experiencing much- she wouldn’t savor being that close to him. She should be grateful to even be in his presence. Another noise. Pain. Roman. 

“Boss?” Victor asked, barging in. The attendant moved back quickly, eyes wide with fear. 

“Victor?” Roman said, looking up. “What’s wrong?” He was laying on his chest, in the fairly dark room. No shirt, the way Victor had wanted, but the irritated expression he wore had not been a part of the fantasy. 

“I uh.. I thought I heard something.”

“Look, if you’re going to be all jumpy just stay here,” Roman sighed. Victor shut the door behind himself and watched across the table, locking eyes with the attendant. “I was just telling Julia here about the time we went to Venice, you remember that?” 

“Yeah, we killed Maroni’s grandma and sent her head to him with a postcard,” Victor said, smiling fondly at the memory. Julia looked mortified and was still standing back from Roman. 

“God, Victor, I was talking about the fucking tourist attractions, not  _ business. _ ” 

“I swear on my life I won’t tell anybody-”

“Yeah I fucking know that, just do your job,” Roman sighed. Julia returned to work tepidly, and Victor watched her intently. It took him a moment to realize Roman was being quiet, which likely meant he was gauging Victor and Julia’s interaction. “Be nice to my masseuse, Mr. Zsasz.” 

“I am being nice, aren’t I?” Victor asked, looking at Julia. 

“Uh- oh of  _ course.”  _

“Anyways, we went to Saint Mark’s Square, it’s beautiful this time of year, have you ever been?”

“Uh no,” Julia said. Victor watched her hands move across his shoulders. 

“The water is beautiful. Way too many people though,” sighed Roman. Julia pressed her thumbs in to his back, between his shoulder blades. If she had a blade and slipped it between his sixth or seventh rib she would get him in the lung. Her hands moved lower. Probably his eleventh or twelfth rib, right there was the kidney. Then her hand moved back up quickly and Victor realized how strong they were exactly. Especially when her hands moved to his shoulders, at the top, near his neck. Good for strangulation. Victor looked up from Roman for just a second and caught her gaze again. She was nervous, likely afraid. “That is wonderful, could you do that a little harder?” 

“Of course,” she said. Victor stared at her intently, hoping she would get the message. She did what Roman said, and he gasped. It was one of those delighted little gasps, like when Victor brought him a freshly peeled face or he found a particularly fascinating piece of art, or the time he discovered there was a snake called a Black-Masked Racer only to touch a snake for the first time and promptly decide they fell in the ‘ew’ category. The snake or the art or some other  _ thing  _ Victor could deal with, but with a different person? With a random woman who wasn’t even really alive, with a random woman who didn’t care about him, not like Victor did. Yet she was able to put her hands all over Roman, to touch and caress him the way Victor could only dream of. It carried on like that, Roman making soft noises or praising that random  _ bitch  _ while Victor watched intently. When it finally ended Victor and Julia were pushed out of the room by Roman. Victor decided to call up the driver. 

The driver was on his way, or at least that was what he said. Victor was waiting outside, next to Roman, who had taken to pacing back and forth in front of the parking lot.

“I swear to fucking god he had better be dead! He had better be fucking dead, fucking  _ fuck! _ ”

“If he’s not I can kill him for you,” Victor offered. That Julia bitch wouldn’t kill for him. She couldn’t do what Victor could for him. But Victor couldn’t do what she did. 

“Why are you the only fucking person I can rely on? Is it that hard to get good guys? Is every guy I own shit? Not you Victor, but every other fucking asshole I own can’t do basic shit. I’m Roman fucking Sionis I shouldn’t be waiting in the parking lot of this shithole waiting for this fuckin’ guy. You know that-”

“I know!” Victor agreed. He moved closer to Roman, tapping his shoulder and keeping him from continuing to pace. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Do I ask for too much?” Roman asked.

“No, of course not. It’s an easy job.”

“Right!? It’s so easy, and Falcone or Maroni or whichever one of those jackasses it is is tryna kill me off and these fucking idiots can’t even come fuckin get me on time! Thank fuck you’re here!”

“There’s that useless prick now,” Victor said. The driver got out and tried to apologize as Roman started to yell. Victor looked back at the massage parlor. At least now they could forget that Julia bitch.

Victor could not, for the life of him, stop thinking about Julia. Likely because he had seen  _ another  _ appointment on Roman’s books in a month, and recalled a particular detail he hated completely. With the Falcone situation, Roman had decided he had less time for massages and other stuff like that which is why that appointment had only been a back massage. However, Victor had remembered him mentioning in passing a  _ full body massage.  _ Julia, who wasn’t even properly  _ alive,  _ had seen and touched more of Roman than Victor could dare to wish for. Roman didn’t  _ like  _ Julia, did he? Of course not. She was just some masseuse, and he was  _ Roman Sionis.  _ Victor did a little research in to Julia’s workplace. There were dozens of masseuses, some who even specialized in particular types of massage. Maybe Julia just did back massages, she might not even be the one who touched Roman. It still shot fury up his spine to think there was someone who did, but they probably didn’t matter. But there was only one way to know.

“Boss?” asked Victor.

“Yeah? What?” Roman called back. He seemed to be rearranging the statues again. 

“Do you remember the name of that masseuse? I’ve gotta set up some appointment stuff, they wanna move your appointment around.”

“Fucking really, really? To me?”

“I know, I know. I won’t let it happen.”

“It was Julia,” Roman called back, still looking at the statues. He knew her fucking name. Roman knew her name. 

His first reaction was to hunt Julia down and kill her. Just get rid of her, and let Roman be upset, but to have him to himself again. But then Roman would just get a new masseuse. Then even more people other than Victor would have gotten to touch and caress Roman. Thus he turned to Youtube. Never in his life did he think he would invest this much time in to learning a skill useless for his trade for a man. But this was Roman Sionis. Victor found that massage and the accompanying tools for the job fit in neatly with what he already knew about Roman’s less violent interests. There were a thousand different oils and rubs and shit, sort of like Roman’s skin care thing. He figured out he could use olive oil well enough and decided to go with it until Roman complained. He knew damn well Roman  _ would  _ complain, but then when he did Victor could figure out exactly what Roman wanted instead so he could get the right thing. He practiced silently massaging a pillow, watching video after video. It reminded him both of how cats kneaded and of tenderizing meat. He supposed it was technically closer to the latter. He remembered the count of Roman’s ribs, and how it corresponded to where to rub. Victor worried a little that he would massage too aggressively, too much like a meat tenderizer, and agitate Roman. Fortunately for him, it seemed the most important parts of massage and pressure were up to the person being massaged, and Roman was not the type to take issue with telling Victor what he wanted . Victor would be ready, he was sure. He just had to make his move. 

He got to kill the driver who had been late for Roman. He had found a replacement driver and decided being late to get him was an offense punishable by death. Victor was excited. He would get a new tally that day, and get to spend hours of it with Roman, giving him what only Victor could. The driver in question was dangling from the ceiling, tied up, ready to have his face peeled off. Victor had his knives laid out, nice and neat how Roman liked, next to some power tools in case it was to be a particularly good day. Roman came strolling in, a spring in his step, all flashy suit and flashy smile. It looked like it would be a good day. 

“Yes! It looks great Mr. Zsasz!” Roman yelled, energy radiating off of him. Victor couldn’t help but smile. He walked towards the laid out knives and power tools and Victor felt excitement well in his chest as Roman ran his hands over a two foot wrench. Roman picked it up, weighing it in his gloved hands before swinging it back and slamming it in to the man’s ribs. Victor moved closer to Roman, looking at the pain and fear in the driver’s contorted face before looking back up at Roman. “Alright, now before I get a little too carried away, his face, if you’d please, Mr. Zsasz?” He was like a star, radiating heat and intensity. Most people feared his energy just as much as they feared his rage or his darker sadness. Victor didn’t fear him at all. He picked up the right carving knife to get the cleanest cut possible and presented it to Roman with a smile. 

“This one boss?”

“Perfect, absolutely perfect.” Normally Roman stood back when Victor worked off a person’s face, still watching but not close, not quite as in it. Now he stood right next to Victor, leaning towards the driver. “You see, Mr. Zsasz here doesn’t let me down.” Roman put a hand on his shoulder. “He does exactly what I need him to do right when I need him to do it. Always.  _ Perfectly. _ ” Victor made a show of slowly cutting the squirming man’s face, basking in Roman’s presence and praise. Victor removed the driver’s gag to get at the sides of his face, wanting it to be a clear,  _ perfect  _ cut. Perfect for Roman. The driver cried out and tried to trash, but of course Victor stopped him from moving too much. “Got something to say to me?” Roman asked the driver. “It’s much too late to apologize.” The driver spit blood in his face. 

Roman was furious. Beyond furious. His energy was thrown off, all directed in to blind fury as he threw chairs around the room and yelled about the indignity of it all. Victor quickly killed the driver and finished the face removal, setting it aside for later. He walked to Roman’s side as he continued to yell, incoherent words mixed with the occasional ‘fuck’. 

“Hey, boss, look at me,” Victor said. “It’s gonna be alright. He’s dead, and if you want we can pick up some of his family members and-”

“I was in a great fucking mood and he ruined it! He disrespected me- fucking  _ spat in my  _ fucking face!” Victor reached out and grabbed Roman’s arms, to stop him from throwing anything more. Roman instantly recoiled a little, but Victor gripped him a little tighter. Roman writhed around in his touch for a moment more before stopping, panting, rage still obvious on his face. Victor moved his hands down a little, almost holding his hands. 

“It’s gonna be alright. I promise. We’re gonna get him back.”

“Yeah,” Roman said, swallowing and slowing his breathing. Victor guided him to a chair and let him sit down on his own. He moved behind Roman, and hoping it would calm him a little, he started to massage his shoulders. 

“What do you wanna do about him, boss?”

“We’ll kill his family.”

“Of course.”

“Slowly. Use that wrench…”

“Want their faces?” Victor asked. He could feel Roman relaxing against his touch. 

“Yeah,” Roman said. “Yeah that’ll be great.”

“Help you blow off some steam,” Victor said. “I can go get ‘em right now.”

“Not right now but… this evening though.”

“Of course. Whenever you want.” Roman sighed and reached up, touching one of Victor’s hands softly. It was going to be a good night. 

Roman had worked through the remainder of his energy killing off the driver’s family. Now he was tired, and a bit stressed, and could use time to unwind. Victor decided it was time. The long couch was flat enough. He gathered up a towel, a sheet, and olive oil. He breathed in. How was this more frightening than killing someone? Maybe he should have just killed Julia. 

“Victor, what the fuck are you doing?” asked Roman.  _ Fuck. Ah fuck.  _ He wanted to be much more ready before Roman came in, he wanted to have a way to say things- a planned way. Roman was there,  _ now,  _ wearing his red silk pajamas. 

“Oh shit, uh, I was-”

“What are you doing? Are you trying to jack off on my couch or something?” Roman asked, less irritated than Victor thought he would be with that idea. 

“ _ No!  _ No. I was uh- I wanted to- well-”

“Say it Victor, what did you want?” Roman sighed.

“Let me start over- You’re in danger because of the Falcone situation. I wanna keep you safe, so I uh, learned how to give massages. For you.” There was a pause. 

“How long have you been preparing this?” asked Roman.

“Uh… a few weeks?” Victor said. “So I should be able to help- to uh actually give you a good massage.” Roman raised an eyebrow. 

“Alright. I would prefer not to go out so much with the Falcone thing. If you do good, then I’ll cancel my appointment,” Roman said. Victor couldn’t suppress a grin. He would cancel with Julia. He would pick Victor. Roman took off his house coat, and put in on the back of the couch. “You want me to lay...Where?” 

“Uh, here,” said Victor, presenting the couch. He rolled the towel up. “This goes under your chest.”

“I’ve had a massage before, Victor,” Roman said. He was judging. Victor wasn’t sure why, but Roman was judging him. Assessing him. 

“Of course,” he said, pulling back the sheet. 

“Hm.. If you’re going to be my masseuse then I’ll need to get a good sheet for this. And maybe one of those massage tables.” 

“I’m not that good yet, but I uh, I am practicing.” 

“Oh I noticed, ” said Roman. “This morning, with the stupid fucking driver.” He took his shirt off, before placing it on the couch. Roman wasn’t particularly muscular or ‘built’ but that wasn’t what Victor liked. He had more weight around his ribs and stomach, but Victor could still see where he had muscle. There was a layer of hair across his chest, which Victor quite liked. His waist wasn’t trim, exactly, but it was tapered from his lower ribs to his hips. He had a small scar on his side below his pec. Victor was instantly drawn to the scar. Roman stretched for a moment, then laid down, and stretched out. He was there. It was time. Victor poured the olive oil in his hands and started trying to warm it by rubbing it together. “Ew! Is that fucking olive oil?” asked Roman.

“Uh… Yeah… You’ll have to get some better oil too,” Victor said. “Sorry boss.” Roman sighed and subjected himself to the olive oil. Victor pressed his hands to Roman’s shoulder and rubbed across his back in a figure eight. It was exactly as the video showed him, trying to rub the oil in properly. 

“Harder Victor,” Roman said. 

“Of course,” Victor said, pressing firmer to his back. Sure, he intended to add more pressure later, but Roman wanted it now. He would give Roman whatever he wanted. Always. He moved his hands to Roman’s lower back and pushed up, towards his neck. He was careful around Roman’s shoulder blades- he wasn’t supposed to press on the bone. 

“Harder,” Roman said again. No please or ‘could you’, just a demand. He didn’t demand Julia like that. Victor pressed hard against Roman’s back. Too hard. “Not like that, Victor.” He lightened his touch despite the anger still present. “Yeah,  _ perfect.”  _ Victor lit up like a Christmas tree, sudden happiness flooding him. He didn’t say perfect to Julia. He didn’t say perfect to other killers. Only Victor. Only Victor did things perfectly for him. Victor moved his hands up to Roman’s shoulders, where he kneaded and rubbed them till he found a knot. “Oh,  _ Victor, _ ” Roman practically  _ purred.  _ What was he doing? This had to be on purpose. Victor remembered then that he had to move his whole body as he pressed in to Roman’s shoulders. “You spent weeks learning how to do this?”

“Uh, yes boss,” Victor said, trying to keep his voice as stable as possible. 

“Just because you were jealous about Julia?” Roman asked. Victor felt his stomach drop, but didn’t stop. “So needy Victor. So jealous.” Victor moved his hands to the bottom of Roman’s spine and pressed up again. “You go out of your way to do all this just for me. Really know how to make a guy feel  _ special.”  _ Victor moved one hand up under the front of his shoulder, and his other hand under the shoulder blade, rotating his shoulder back and forth. “You got pretty good at this.” Victor had two options. Try to ignore it, and let everything turn back to status quo, or he could feed Roman’s ego. Give Roman whatever it was he wanted. 

“Anything for you, Roman,” Victor said, a little nervous at calling the mob lord by his first name. It felt almost ridiculous, or unreal. He had killed so many people, he was covered in the marks of their liberation. Yet here he was, nervous and giddy about touching and talking to someone. Worried about what he called the other man. 

“What about Julia made you so jealous?” asked Roman. 

“You like her- to some extent, you let her touch you and you know her name-”

“Oh you’re gonna be jealous all the time then.” Victor clenched Roman’s shoulders a little harder. “I remember everybody’s name.”

“Why?” Roman tensed a little bit. 

“If I ever forgot someone’s name at a party my father would… react badly.” Victor let up a little bit. 

“I’m sorry boss.” 

“Don’t do this sad shit, I don’t need your sad shit. Also I liked it better when you called me by my name,” Roman said. Victor continued to rub along Roman’s back. He moved up close to Roman’s ear. 

“Can I kill that Julia bitch?” Victor whispered, pressing his weight on to Roman. He felt goosebumps form on Roman’s neck and grinned. 

“Hmm.. No.” 

“Why not?  _ Please,  _ Roman,” Victor said. He wanted to do everything Roman would let him get away with. “It’ll be fun.”

“I know, but I  _ like  _ you jealous.” Was Roman playing with him? Maybe. Roman’s words were ideal, maybe better, but if he didn’t mean it-“Come on Victor,” Roman said. “You were all worked up because Julia got to touch me. I’m giving you a chance. Don’t waste it.” Victor went from standing, and trying to hold a respectful distance to sitting on top of Roman’s back, straddling his lower back. “Oh, interesting.” Victor pressed his thumbs firmly in to Roman’s back between his shoulder blades. He moved down. 

“Twelfth rib,” Victor said. “Right below here is your kidney.” Victor moved up. “Here’s around where your lungs start. They’re not far from here. I could slip a blade right in here and reach it,” he said touching the space between them.

“Oh, yeah?” Roman said. “Will you?” Victor paused his speech, but not the massage. “Do I have a special place on your skin?” Roman’s voice was low, but firm. 

“I’ve considered a few,” Victor said. “When I first met you I wanted you to be on my neck.” He pressed firmly and Roman’s back popped a little. “Show you off. How I killed Roman Sionis.” He leaned forwards more firmly on Roman and pressed his shoulders. “Then I wanted to put you right here,” he said, running a finger over the scar on Roman’s side. “Match you.” 

“I like that.”

“Now I’m thinking left ring finger.”

“How romantic.”

“It’s not the wedding band bullshit. If I ever free you I wanna see you every day. And it’s the only finger with an artery that connects to the heart. Again, not for the romance shit, but ‘cause I like the idea that if I take you it could kill me too.” 

“I don’t know why you think that’s not romantic. Sounds pretty romantic to me.” 

“I don’t know why we’re not already together,” Victor said, deciding that there wasn’t much he could say that was more risky than telling Roman where the scars would be if he were to kill him. “You know I’m the only person who can give you this. You know that no one else loves the way you hurt people.” There was a pause. 

“You’re gonna give me all that?” Roman asked. “You really think you can give me all that?”

“Anything. I’d give you anything. And everything.” Victor waited for a response.

“You won’t leave me?” asked Roman, his voice breaking slightly. Just the sound of it frightened Victor, he wasn’t sure how to deal with  _ that.  _

“Never,” Victor promised. “I would  _ never  _ leave you.” Roman suddenly decided their current position was unacceptable, as he twisted up under Victor till he turned himself around and sat up. Victor forgot sometimes that Roman was a little bit taller than him. He liked that. 

“So, Victor, I’m going to get a bath and get this fucking olive oil off of me, and it looks like you have it all over your hands, so would you like to conserve water and come with me?” 

“Absolutely,” Victor said. “If I knew dumping olive oil on you would work out like this I woulda done it a long time ago.” He said, getting up. 

“Ew, do not.”

“I wouldn’t, Romi.”

“Romi?”

“Yeah like a nickname-”

“Ew. No. Absolutely not.” Roman was up and heading towards the bathroom. 

“Alright, alright… But Roman’s alright.”

“Yes.” Roman took one of Victor’s hands and started to pull him along,unhappy with how slow he was going. 

“Mr. Sionis?” Victor moved a hand to his shirt, trying to get at the buttons. 

“Of course,” Roman said, releasing his hand and going for the shirt himself. Roman quickly undid all the buttons of his shirt and pushed his shirt aside. Victor intended to catch it, but watching Roman’s eyes light up as he looked at Victor’s scars was rather distracting. Roman grinned when he noticed the new tally. Roman closed the distance between them, and touched the scar with his thumb, smiling. “The driver?”

“Yeah,” Victor smiled.

“God, Victor that’s…” Roman rubbed his thumb over it again. “I love that.” Roman put his hands on Victor’s waist and walked backwards, guiding him all the way to the bathroom. Roman went on his knees, but turned to the faucet. He was serious about that bath thing it seemed. Victor moved to his knees too, next to Roman. He was still cautious about touching Roman first, but Roman seemed to be in a very giving mood. Victor put a hand on his shoulder and turned him gently away from the tub, his hand falling to Roman’s hip. He moved closer to Roman, gently turning him till they were face to face. He moved a little closer to Roman till they were chest to chest, swaying a little. He kept moving slightly closer to Roman, till their noses were touching. He wanted to make sure if Roman decided against it that he could. “You and your oily hands,” Roman said. 

“You need a bath anyways,” said Victor. Roman turned quickly and turned the faucet off, keeping it from overflowing. Victor went for his waistband, pulling Roman close to him, and trying to slowly go for the kiss again. Roman went for his belt. He quickly removed it,balling it up and placing it on the counter. Victor pulled his own shoes off and then his socks, trying to place them in a way that was organized enough for Roman. Roman took off his socks and put them next to Victor’s. Roman went to Victor’s pants, unbuttoning them and starting to pull them down, till he got to Victor’s knees. Then he moved closer and grabbed at Victor’s ass, kissing his neck. Victor pulled closer, wrapping his arms around Roman’s back. Roman’s hands moved up to his back, stroking along the scars. Victor pressed closer and closer to Roman, snuggling against him, then moving his hands to Roman’s waistband. He pushed Roman’s pants down, pulling them as far down as he could. Roman stood up, dragging Victor along with him. Victor finished off Roman’s pajama pants as he stood up. Roman took off his boxers and slipped in to the bath, stretching his arms out to Victor. Victor followed suit, excited to see Roman’s reaction to the rest of his scars. The water was hot, much hotter than Victor liked it, but he was quite fine with that. He sat himself firmly in Roman’s lap. Roman rubbed his hands over the scars along Victor’s thighs. 

“Is there anywhere you don’t have these?” asked Roman.

“Only places I can’t reach. You could help me though,” Victor said. Victor rubbed his hands down Roman’s stomach, to his hip bones. Rushing Roman could be a deathly mistake. Roman didn’t seem to mind though. 

“I might have to take you up on that.” 

The bathtub was not as comfortable as Victor had hoped. He knew it wouldn’t be fantastic, but Roman had the biggest bathtub Victor had ever seen. Regardless, he worked his way down to lay on Roman’s chest, face to face, and again tried to kiss him. Roman seemed to have other things in mind as he almost dodged Victor to go back to his neck. Victor forced down his split second aggravation. He knew Roman often liked to wear his black mask, knew enough about his parents, and knew Roman had some…  _ thing  _ with faces and masks. Maybe he just didn’t like his face to be touched. Roman didn’t let most people touch him at all, so it sort of made sense. Additionally, Roman seemed to have found a particularly interesting scar with his tongue. Victor moved his hand further down, ghosting it closer and closer to Roman’s cock. 

“May I?” Victor asked, trying to control his breathing, as his chin was nestled close to Roman’s ear. Roman had always been a bit sensitive and picky, but he deserved to have high standards.

“Oh please do,” Roman breathed in to the crook of his neck. Victor firmly grasped Roman and himself together, stroking their lengths, though admittedly giving Roman a little more attention. Victor hadn’t paid much attention to his own cock, and hadn’t fully realized he was already half hard. He was delighted to find Roman was as well. He gave them both a firm squeeze, hoping to drag Roman away from his neck for a moment. The prominent veins in his neck damn near assured it would bruise. Maybe Roman wanted to leave bruises on him. Make sure everybody knew. Somehow the thought that Roman would want to show everybody he and Victor were together felt better than the attention of his hand. Roman didn’t seem to agree, moving one of his hands to join Victor’s. Their fingers interweaved around their cocks and Victor let Roman set the pace. Victor rubbed his nail over the head of Roman’s cock, pressing his cheek to Roman’s shoulder and looking up at him. He paid careful attention to Roman’s facial expressions as he tested rubbing his thumb against the slit, or squeezing along veins. He moved his other hand to Roman’s chest, feeling his heartbeat speed under Victor’s fingers. He loved the feeling of Roman’s heart fluttering under his fingers. The desperate tempo of life, Roman’s  _ literal  _ life beneath his fingers. Roman let him. Roman let Victor, who had freed so many from their bodies. He just let Victor feel his pulse and stroke him. Victor decided to test his theory about Roman’s face and kissed his neck. Roman didn’t try to move away, and in fact gave a little more positive attention to Victor’s lower regions, deciding to set a steady, quicker pace. 

“Ho- Oh,  _ Roman-”  _

“You like that?” Roman asked. 

“Oh, Oh  _ yes  _ Mr. Sionis,” Victor said. He wanted to figure out which name Roman liked best. Firmer squeeze, quicker pace. Victor made sure to match Roman, his hips snapping up a little bit to meet the temporary retreat of Roman’s hand. 

“I love to hear you talk to me, Mr. Zsasz.” Victor knew Romi was not allowed, Roman was, and Mr. Sionis was. He decided to test a few more. 

“Anything you want, sir,” Victor tested. Seemed about equal with Mr. Sionis, but that already felt wonderful. There was one more he could try. He bucked his hips, and then moved a little closer to Roman’s ear. “A little harder,  _ please _ , Black Mask.” There was an immediate response with quicker, nearly painful,  _ delightfully  _ painful and a bite to his neck, so hard it definitely left marks- tooth marks. Roman came first, but Victor wasn’t far after him. Victor went for a kiss for a moment before pushing himself back. He supposed he had gotten to used to sex with drones or on television. Roman was different. Of course he would be different. Admittedly the physical aspects were the same as when he had sex with a drone before. He supposed the bit that made it better and more special was  _ who  _ it had been. Roman rather quickly finished up his bath and got out, without another word to Victor. Victor figured he was just tired. Roman was finicky anyways. 

Roman was avoiding him, as best as Roman could. Roman was dependent on him, desperately, but he was barely speaking to Victor. Admittedly he was barely speaking to anyone anyways. He was also wearing it. Constantly. That black mask. Victor was sent out alone. To commit a murder that Roman was excited about. He begged and didn’t want to die, and Victor got a new tally, but it didn’t make him feel better. It was what  _ only  _ Victor could do for Roman and he didn’t even want to see Victor do it. He thought of Julia and of the bath. That was it. He wouldn’t let Roman or Mr. Sionis or Black Mask fuck around with him and he wouldn’t let him hide away behind that stupid fucking gimp mask. Victor took a deep breath. He liked the mask, he was being unreasonable. He would play along. He would do it for the day. But as soon as he had time alone with Roman, it was over. 

They had about an hour before the club would open, and Victor sent the staff to work as hard as they possibly could so everything would be perfect when he and Roman joined them. Roman was reorganizing couch cushions, tension obvious in every movement. 

“Roman?” Victor demanded. Roman turned, and Victor was fairly sure he was glaring at him. Victor walked up to him, maintaining eye contact. Clearly if Roman thought he could get rid of him, he would have done it already. Roman had to know how much he needed Victor. “What the hell is going on?”

“What the hell is going on?”

“You’re trying to avoid me, you’ve got your mask on, you’re… What are you doing?” 

“What do you want from me?”Roman asked, backing up slightly, raising his fists as if to fight. “It was just a one night stand, Victor.” 

“ _ You  _ made  _ me  _ promise never to leave you,” Victor took his hands firmly. “I intend to keep that promise, Roman, but that’s not something you make somebody promise you before a one night stand. The opposite if I’m right.” His grip loosened. “Please, boss, tell me what’s happening. If all you want from me is a one nightstand then that’s fine,” Victor lied, “But I need to  _ know. _ ” Roman froze, saying nothing for what felt like minutes, the light in his eyes getting blurred. Then Roman firmly took Victor’s hands and started walking. He walked to the room that usually held his mask, locked the doors firmly behind them, let go of Victor, walked to the stand, took his mask off, and turned. Tears. Victor had seen a lot of people cry but  _ Roman  _ crying was panicking. Usually the mask meant they would have some fun with somebody and Roman would do something and it would be fun- but this was… Roman started down right weeping. He walked to Victor and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him desperately tight. Victor could only think that he was supposed to hug back, and so he did. He reached up and petted Roman’s hair. For a long time he just trembled and sobbed in to Victor’s shoulder. Victor tried to hold Roman tight enough to make sure he knew he was there. 

“Please don’t leave me, Victor,” Roman broke the silence. 

“Never. I would never,  _ never  _ leave you. Never,” Victor said. 

“I’m so fucking scared of you.”

“I won’t hurt you. Not you. I know I have a place for you and all but-”

“I don’t care if you kill me; I just can’t live if you fucking leave me.” 

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave you. Never,” Victor said. “I can’t prove it to you other than by staying forever. Which I will, of course but…” 

“I don’t want to fucking need you, I don’t want to fucking need anyone- not you, not another mob or another boss, not my fucking  _ family _ .” Victor felt a pain in his chest as he prepared to say what he had to. 

“Roman, you functioned without me. You don’t need me,” Victor wished Roman  _ needed  _ him. He was dependent on him, and he wanted Roman to need him, felt like he did, but Roman needed to feel like he didn’t need Victor. 

“I don’t think I… I know technically I could survive without you- I just don’t want to. And I don’t… I can’t let you in-  _ Fuck! _ ” 

“It’s alright… You can let me in… Roman I’m here. I’m here for you. Forever.” There was a pause. Roman’s sniffling settled down. He looked up at Victor, closed the gap between them, and kissed him on the lips. Victor held Roman close for a moment, somehow not surprised that some type of sex came before they first actually kissed. When they pulled apart Victor chuckled fondly. He ran a hand through Roman’s hair. Nobody was quite like Roman. Victor rarely felt much, but he was genuinely glad that out of everybody else in the world, it was Roman who was alive. 

“Victor.”

“Yeah?” 

“If you ever fucking leave me I’m gonna rearrange my living room so there’s a spot for your taxidermied corpse.” 

“You know I think I get it now.”

“What?”

“Why you didn’t want me to kill Julia,” Victor said. “Might scare others, but I like you possessive.” 


End file.
